


There is no line you won’t step right over.

by merihn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bloodplay, Handcuffs, Knifeplay, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-23
Updated: 2007-04-23
Packaged: 2017-11-07 06:21:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merihn/pseuds/merihn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam’s got a surprise for Dean when he wakes up that Dean will never forget. Just porn, people!</p>
            </blockquote>





	There is no line you won’t step right over.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the most amazing, gorgeous, wonderful, funny and awesome chick I ever had the good fortune to meet through livejournal, [**flawedamythyst**](http://flawedamythyst.livejournal.com/). Amy has been there for me, to urge, encourage, argue and chat with for so long… I just don’t know what I’d do without her. So many of my fics would not have been written without her encouragement, and there is no way I would have written so many in such a short amount of time. Now, I could ramble about her all day… but I won’t, for all your sake’s. lol  
>  HAPPY BIRTHDAY, baby! Hope you have a brilliant day.

Dean woke up slowly, his mind still cloudy with sleep, a smile on his face from whatever he’d been dreaming about before he’d woken up. He tried to wipe his face with one hand and his eyes flew open, his mind suddenly awake and filled with panic as he realised that he couldn’t move either of his arms, which were stretched up above him and comfortably crooked so Dean hadn’t even been aware that they were securely handcuffed to the ornately-carved headboard of the bed. The inside of the cuffs were covered in some soft material so that they comfortably cushioned Dean’s wrists from the cold, hard metal which he now felt as he struggled to get out.

“No use struggling, Dean.” Dean froze at the sound of Sam’s low, sensuous voice. He turned his head and craned his neck until he saw Sam coming up the side of the bed. His younger brother reached over Dean, leaning until his loose, oversized shirt brushed against Dean’s face and tapped something against the cuffs. They rang hollowly and Dean turned his head to see what Sam held in his hand. He swallowed thickly when he recognised one of Sam’s favourite knives, the blade wickedly curved with a deep channel carved into the thick, flat edge. The black plastic handle followed the curve and fitted perfectly in Sam’s hand, allowing him to handle it with utter deadly grace.

“Christo.” Dean croaked his mouth dry. What the hell was going on here?

“Must I be possessed to enjoy you restrained and at my mercy?” Sam’s grin was too slow and wicked, and Dean wondered if there was a way for demons to get past the revealing nature of God’s name. “I’m not possessed, Dean.” Sam leaned down and kissed him.

The kiss was pure Sam, the tongue flickering at his lip before sliding into his mouth, the slight touch of teeth as he deepened the contact, even the movement of his jaw as he pressed in closer.

All too soon Sam broke the contact and moved back. Dean held his breath as Sam pressed the knife against his throat. The metal was warm; Sam had obviously been toying with it while waiting for Dean to wake up, but was still cool enough for Dean to shiver at the touch. Sam traced the tip along his jaw, applying pressure every so often to get Dean to turn his head slightly, then traced the line of his Adam’s apple before dipping into his collarbone.

Dean couldn’t help swallowing hard when the sharp blade pricked the skin at the very sensitive dip of his collarbone. On one hand he felt too safe - his arms weren’t pulled tight and he still had a blanket draped over half his body - but then Sam was leaning over him with an unreadable look on his face, the knife held securely in his hand, possessing the skill to do whatever he wanted to Dean without anyone every knowing.

Sam slid onto the bed with liquid grace, straddling Dean’s hips in one long, slow movement that rolled his bare hips against Dean’s until he arched and groaned beneath him. Sam pulled at the hem of his over-sized shirt and yanked it over his head, exposing the rest of his body to Dean’s gaze. Dean wished his hands were free so he could run his hands down that firm muscular torso, pinch and rub his brother’s nipples until they were hard, then move down his belly to play with his belly button until Sam was begging him to touch his cock, begging Dean to fuck him.

Sam rolled his hips again and met Dean’s burning gaze as he leaned down to kiss him again, short and sweet. When he sat back again the knife was dangling from his long, dexterous fingers and he wore a smirk that rivalled Dean’s.

Sam held the knife up to his own face and opened his mouth, sliding his tongue along the edge. Dean’s mind was clouded with lust but he registered that Sam only traced the flat side of the blade and whimpered quietly when Sam’s tongue slid into the deep groove and followed it to the sharp tip.

Sam grinned at Dean’s noise and rolled his hips again, the movement further pushing the blanket down Dean’s body until it was just above his knees and letting Dean’s cock slide between his ass cheeks. Dean groaned again and arched, trying to push up; seeking that tight heat he knew was there.

Sam slid the knife across Dean’s cheek, making his breath hitch until it hit the curve of his lips. Sam ran it along the crease, pressing it into the plump flesh until it broke the skin. As blood welled out Sam turned the blade onto the flat side and stroked the blood across Dean’s lips, covering them in crimson. Dean could feel the wetness covering his mouth and tried not to move, nostrils flaring with effort.

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut and he moaned and writhed on Dean’s lap. “Fuck, Dean. You… you have no idea...” Sam’s eyes opened again and he leaned down, hovered just over Dean’s face, breath tickling his cheek, eyes glued to his mouth.

Dean felt the cold hardness of the blade slide across his lips again and then Sam was opening his mouth and licking the blood off the blade, eyes sliding shut again as he obviously savoured the taste. Dean closed his eyes, his entire body straining with the effort of not moving, of not thrusting up into Sam.

Then Sam was licking him, small kitten licks to his lips, cleaning them off, bringing the blood into his own mouth and making small noises in the back of his throat that threatened to drive Dean crazy. The soft roughness of Sam’s tongue on his lips and the small rolls of Sam’s hips on his felt like too much sensation, felt more stimulating than if Sam were stroking his cock. Dean tugged at the handcuffs again, feeling the bite of cold steel as he pulled too hard.

“Shh… stop that,” Sam whispered against his lips, opening his mouth and sucking on Dean’s lower lip. “All in good time, big brother.”

“Sam…” Dean pleaded. “Come on, please.” Dean hated himself for begging but his cock was achingly hard, pressed between Sam’s legs and his toes were curled against the bed, locked so tightly Dean wasn’t sure he’d be able to uncurl them.

“Mmm,” Sam murmured, moving his mouth to suck all traces of blood from Dean’s upper lip, tongue flicking out slide into the small cut, making Dean hiss. After a moment he pulled back and Dean watched his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed hard. “Your lips… they’re almost as dark now as they were… Fuck.” Sam reached down and gripped his cock, pinching his fingers around the base.

Dean licked his lips as he watched Sam curse under his breath and arch forward into the circle of his own fingers and pushed his hips up, making his cock rub against Sam’s skin. Sam locked eyes with him and panted quietly.

“C’mere,” Dean murmured quietly. He gestured with his head. “C’mon, move up here… let me… let me help you.” He urged Sam to move, pushing his leg up until Sam crawled up his body. “Higher,” Dean directed until Sam’s hips swayed above his face, dick hard and dark.

Sam bit his lip and looked down his body at Dean who parted his lips and raised his head, wishing again that his hands were free so he could direct Sam where he needed him. He closed his lips around the head of Sam’s cock and Sam finally seemed to get the idea, moving around until he was in a better position, hands on the bed head above Dean’s so Dean’s neck didn’t strain from the awkward angle.

“Fuck…” Sam gasped, hips moving in tiny thrusts. He was obviously holding back, fingers tight on the bed head above Dean, eyes just barely focused on Dean’s face. Dean took more of Sam into his mouth and suckled gently. Dean knew he was never completely out of control; Sam still followed his directions and would never hurt him intentionally.

Dean pulled back with a deliberate _pop_ that made Sam’s hips jerk, pushing the head of his cock against Dean’s lips then to the side, smearing precome and spit over his cheek.

“Fuck.” Sam’s vocabulary seemed reduced to that one word as Dean grinned and licked his lips, tasting salty bitterness.

“It’s okay.” Dean held Sam’s eyes. ‘Do it. I know you want to.” He opened his mouth again and slipped his lips over the head of Sam’s cock, waiting. Sam nibbled at his lips, eyes uncertain before pushing forward a little, gently as if testing Dean’s resolve. It only made Dean surer, more ready to take whatever Sam gave him, to let Sam have his way.

Dean hummed his encouragement around Sam’s cock and Sam squeezed his eyes shut and pushed forward again, sliding easily past Dean’s ready lips. Sam worked up a slow, gentle rhythm, letting Dean get used to it and Dean hollowed his cheeks and sucked in time with Sam’s thrusts. It didn’t take much time for Sam’s control to slip, his breathing quickened and his thrusts got faster and deeper, pushing further and further til he hit the back of Dean’s throat. His thigh’s tightened around Dean’s chest and he pushed in twice more before coming hard down Dean’s throat. Dean relaxed his throat as much as he could as Sam thrust in and swallowed quickly, drinking down Sam’s orgasm.

Sam pulled back and slumped down, face in the crook of Dean’s neck as he panted harshly, pressing small kisses onto the skin he could reach. “Dean…” He mumbled, making it sound like a prayer. Sam’s body trembled a little against his, chest pressing down on Dean’s as he drew in breath like he’d just come up for air after drowning.

Dean grinned and nuzzled his nose in Sam’s hair, which was all the cuddling he could do restrained the way he was. After a moment Sam lifted himself up, straddling Dean’s hips again as Dean’s achingly hard cock pressed against his ass. Sam grinned wickedly and leaned over to the bedside table, picking up the small bottle of lube and slicking up his fingers.

Dean’s eyes widened as Sam lifted his hips and slid his hand between his own legs.

“Oh…holy fuck,” Dean breathed as he watched Sam’s finger breach the first tight ring of muscle. Sam hissed as he worked the finger deeper, sliding it in and out slowly, almost teasingly. Dean could almost feel the tightness around his own finger; it had been days since he’d buried himself in Sam. Sam started to work another finger in beside the first, making Dean’s own fingers wriggle against the cuffs, wishing he had a paperclip handy.

“Yeah, come on, Sam. Like that… oh… push in harder. Now, twist,” Dean directed Sam and his younger brother followed obediently, sliding his fingers in and out, twisting and scissoring them until he could fit a third finger in as well. Sam’s other hand was on his thigh, his fingers clenched tightly as he worked himself open, his hips thrusting in time with his fingers, brushing himself against Dean’s cock every so often.

“Fuck. Come on. Come on, please.” Dean was begging again but by that point he didn’t care, not with Sam fingering himself open above him, his throat working as he gasped for air, hand brushing Dean’s cock and making it throb painfully.

Sam pulled his fingers out and grasped the lube again, slicking up Dean’s cock, teasing again with small squeezes and a flick at the head. Dean was about to growl at Sam, _If you don’t get on with it..._ when Sam arced above him and slid down on his cock, slow, but not slow enough to make Dean feel like he was about to explode, until he was fully seated on him, hips flush and so, so tight.

It felt like it was over all too soon; Sam rode him hard and fast, fingers twisting and playing with Dean’s nipples as he pushed up and sank down. Dean had already felt like he was over-stimulated, so the feeling of Sam around him was too much to bear. His hips thrust up into Sam and he came in an embarrassingly short amount of time. Sam rolled to a stop, hips twitching slightly as their breath heated the air; and he leaned down and kissed Dean hard, teeth catching on the small cut on his lip, flooding their mouths with a metallic tang.

Sam groaned and sucked the blood away, pulled himself up and off Dean’s cock and layed down beside him, still licking and sucking at his lips. Dean lay back, trying to catch his breath, with Sam stealing it along with his blood. He started to feel his arms ache, his wrists burning from being pulled and twisted against the cuffs.

“You gonna let me out?” he asked Sam when his brother finally parted their mouths and slumped down on Dean’s chest.

“Mm… maybe… maybe later,” Sam mumbled back, obviously falling asleep.

“No, no, Sam. Not later, now!” Dean wriggled, trying to jolt Sam, keep him awake. There was no way he was going to let Sam fall asleep while he was still restrained like this. His wrists were throbbing slightly from the way they’d been banged around and he really wanted to turn on his side. As much as he mocked Sam for cuddling, all he wanted to do was curve his arm around his younger brother, fit their bodies together and sleep.

“Keep that up and I won’t let you out.”

Dean struggled ineffectually for a moment then gave up, knowing Sam was right. He moved into a more comfortable position and let himself drift off.

That wasn’t going to be the end of it.  



End file.
